Slowly, But All at Once
by MaiedaNadeemJanjua
Summary: He did not know how or when she had begun to matter to him, this girl with her piercing blue eyes the colour of forget-me-nots, fiery red hair that appeared almost golden as it caught the candlelight just so, fingers laced with his under the table even as she pretended to read her Ancient Ruins notes. He fell in love then, slowly, and all at once. Rose/Scorpius snippets.


**i. Year One**

"So that's little Scorpius. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

Rose was only half-listening. Still slightly anxious about her father's remark about disinheritance if she wasn't sorted into Gryffindor, she turned to exchange worried looks with Albus, who looked positively alarmed. With a strong surge of resolution, Rose decided she'd be sorely disappointed in herself if she didn't become a Gryffindor. Wouldn't want to disrupt the Potter-Weasley legacy now, would she?

"Ron, for heaven's sake," her mother's half-stern, half-amused voice interjected into her thoughts. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

Distracted at the prospect of a possible rival, Rose looked round. She craned her neck, following her mother's eyes to a group of three standing some fifty yards away. The dense vapour had shifted momentarily, revealing a rather skinny boy with white-blond hair and a somewhat pointed chin standing close to his parents. As she watched, the boy turned his head and caught her eye. She stared back, suddenly intrigued by this little scrawny kid who didn't look half as excited as she felt about going to Hogwarts. The mist stole back over the group then, and, abruptly occupied again with thoughts of Gryffindor and sorting and houses and Hogwarts, she turned back to Albus, her one source of comfort at this time, the only one going through the same anxious nerves and incredible thrill as she was.

"Don't get _too_ friendly with him, though, Rosie," her father was still saying. "Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

But Rose wasn't even listening this time. James' sudden arrival had distracted them all, and his enthusiastic discovery of Teddy and Victoire's stolen moment had driven all other thoughts out of her mind. She agreed with Lily; how lovely it would be if Teddy and Victoire got married!

**ii. Year One**

Stomach writhing with nerves, he watched as his classmates went, one by one, jammed the Hat onto their heads, waited to be sorted. He watched as the Sorting Hat, patched, frayed and dirty, bellowed its decision, and one of the four tables exploded with cheers and applause each time, and he waited with bated breath, hoping, just hoping he wouldn't be placed in Slytherin. As the group of first-years thinned, he found himself growing more and more tense.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

A sudden hush fell over the Great Hall. Scorpius wasn't surprised; the name _Malfoy _had been mentioned, after all – he was used to people shutting up around him when they learned which family he came from. Then again, that was all the more reason he didn't want to be in Slytherin. _Fresh start_, he told himself, as he walked with shaking knees up to the stool. _I am me, I am not my family_. Legs feeling as though they were made of jelly, he sat himself down, crammed the Hat onto his head, held his breath.

A moment's silence. Then, without a word of warning –

"_Gryffindor_!"

Scorpius exhaled. His vision hazy at the edges, he walked dream-like towards the table to the far right, which had erupted into applause, applause quieter and politer than that for the other new Gryffindors, but louder than he'd expected. He felt ecstatic, almost not believing, the most stupendous relief washing over him as some of the older students reached across the table to shake hands with him, clap him on the back, shout incomprehensible greetings and welcomes. Thoroughly reveling in his newfound sense of identity, an identity finally separate from his name, his family, Scorpius only vaguely registered the continuing sorting of students, until a hand shyly reached out to shake his. "Potter, Albus!" had been sorted into Gryffindor as well.

"Hello," said Scorpius, feeling pleasantly surprised that the Potter boy had initiated acquaintance. He seemed to be a nice little bloke, smiling genially and greeting the other students and introducing himself over the loud bubble of happy chatter. Not that he needed any introduction, Scorpius thought amusedly to himself. Only when "Weasley, Rose!" got sorted into Ravenclaw that the boy let his smile fade suddenly; he stretched his neck to smile sadly at someone.

Scorpius looked, too, to see a bush of fiery curls disappearing into the crowd of Ravenclaws at the table second to the left of the Hall. Albus continued to try to catch her eye, rather futilely, until she herself looked up, face shining red with excitement, piercing blue eyes visible clearly even from this distance, red hair tumbling about her shoulders in a wild mess as she waved enthusiastically.

"Not much disappointed in herself, after all, is she?" said Albus absently, waving back. "Said she'd have a heart attack if she wasn't put in Gryffindor."

**iii. Year Three**

November arrived cold and foggy that year, and the chilly air found a very harried-looking Rose Weasley making her way to the greenhouses. She was late for double period with the Gryffindors. Staying up late on a weekday night to play Exploding Snap with her friends was not a good idea, she decided, still feeling slightly groggy from having overslept. As she neared Greenhouse Number Three, she spotted a familiar figure sitting some distance behind it, cross-legged on the dying grass, reading.

"Hullo, Scorpius," she said, a little surprised. "Not in class? You shouldn't sit on the ground, by the way, it rained last night –"

The blond head rose. "Oh, hi. Yeah, I was just going to go in." Scorpius looked a little tired, his steely grey eyes reflecting the equally colourless sky above.

"What are you reading?"

The boy hastily started stuffing a long roll of parchment back into his bag. "Nothing – letter from home –"

Rose did not know the Malfoy boy very well, but he was good friends with Albus and seemed to be a nice person. In any case, her acquaintance with him certainly did not warrant her nosiness, but her curiosity got the best of her. "What do they say?"

Scorpius shrugged nonchalantly as he rose to his feet, but Rose did not miss the tinge of red that appeared momentarily in his otherwise pale cheeks. "Well, my grandparents still haven't accepted my friendship with Albus. You know, family history – anyway, I don't really care …" He hoisted his bag over his shoulder. Intrigued, Rose gazed at him as they started walking towards the greenhouse.

"Why?"

"Why they don't approve?"

"Why you don't really care."

Scorpius shrugged again. "We're friends," he said simply, but did not elaborate.

At that moment, the door to the greenhouse swung open, and there stood Neville – _Professor Longbottom_, Rose corrected herself quickly. Even after two full years of taking Herbology, she was not used to calling him 'Professor.' His keen eyes swiveled between Rose and Scorpius, eyeing the pair rather disapprovingly.

"Twenty minutes late to class, eh? That'll be ten points each from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."

**iv. Year Four**

He pulled at a strand of white-blond hair in frustration as he pored over three books at once, searching for the side effects of Shrinking Solutions for his Potions essay. On the desk behind his, two fourth-year girls sat gossiping in loud whispers, even though Madam Ackerley, the librarian, must have uttered a stern "shhh!" a thousand times time in the last hour.

"Kind of wish they'd shut up, don't you?"

Rose Weasley had materialized out of the musty dimness. She let her bag drop quietly from her shoulder and took a seat across from Scorpius. Pleased at some company, Scorpius shoved his clutter of books and quills aside to make room for her things.

"Wouldn't happen to have done your Shrinking Solutions essay, would you?" he asked hopefully. "I'm trying to find something on side effects."

"No, I didn't include side effects," said Rose, lazily turning a page of _Magical Drafts and Potions_. "Sorry. Robert has my essay at the moment, though, said he needed to look it over for ideas."

Scorpius felt a twinge of annoyance. "Didn't know the boyfriend package came complete with homework help privilege," he said casually, reaching for a fourth book from the shelf he was leaning his chair against. With one glance at the cover, he irritably stuffed it back into the shelf.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" inquired Rose without looking up.

"I don't know. Never mind. Have you seen Albus?"

"No, but that reminds me," said Rose, letting her book fall shut and jumping to her feet. "I have to go look for him, Mum just sent a huge box of Chocolate Frogs and I can't finish them off by myself."

"Ask him if he's done his Potions homework," Scorpius put in promptly. He had just ten hours to submit his essay, but he was still fourteen inches short. Potions was definitely his least favourite subject, he decided then.

Rose grunted in assent. Gathering up her things hastily, she swung her bag over her back and turned to leave. With another twinge of annoyance, Scorpius watched her go, her wild red curls bouncing around her shoulders with every step she took. Sighing, he tore his eyes away from her retreating figure and went back to his books.

**v. Year Five**

She quickly stifled a yawn as Professor Clayworth droned on about the many responsibilities of a Prefect. She had learned enough from her cousin Teddy, who had been a Prefect during his time at Hogwarts, to know what the position entailed. She felt drowsy from boredom, and the warm and muggy air in the Prefects' common room did not help keeping her alert.

She stole a quick glance around at the other Prefects. Albus looked almost as distracted as she felt; he was lounging in his chair, idly tying and untying a knot in his sleeve. Rose cast a sideways glance at Scorpius; he sat to her right, listening to Professor Clayworth with rapt attention, his grey eyes full of life. Today was the second day of school, and Rose hadn't spoken to him since June now; they weren't exactly on letter-writing terms.

Rose tried to tune in to the professor's rambling, but something kept nudging itself into her mind. She couldn't quite decide what it was, but it bothered her. She stole a furtive glance at Scorpius again. He caught her eye, smiled, turned back to listen to the professor. She pretended to listen too, but found it difficult. Something was bothering her, she didn't know what. She let her hair shield her face, let her eyes flicker to Scorpius again. He looked different than she remembered him. Different, but in what way she couldn't decide. She let her eyes rove over the high cheekbones, the well-defined chin, the blond hair that curled over the back of his shirt collar. As though feeling her gaze upon his nape, Scorpius reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. Rose noticed his muscles ripple slightly as he did so.

It suddenly hit her: she found Scorpius Malfoy quite attractive.

Bloody hell.

**vi. Year Six**

He watched her weave her way around the tables, her fiery curls bouncing with each step as it always did. She smiled a sad smile, and he knew she knew; she had heard. He clenched his jaw reflexively, almost defensively, but for some reason, he found he didn't mind when she pulled up a chair next to him.

"I'm so sorry," she said as soon as she sat, keeping her voice low. "Albus just told me."

Madam Ackerley was prowling the nearby shelves, glaring at anyone who talked above a whisper. It was nearly midnight, but the library was still packed with students doing some last-minute cramming for their exams the next day. A few candles floated about, casting a dim light over their heads, as they pored over books and pieces of parchment and scribbled furiously in their exam notes.

"He made a lot of mistakes in his life," replied Scorpius without looking up, "but he was my grandfather."

"I know. I'm sorry." She was still watching him, but he still didn't look up. "If it helps, you're not alone. Crookshanks – Crookshanks died today as well. Mum just sent me a letter."

"Your cat?" Now he looked up. He knew the cat had been in Rose's family for years. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you."

She did not speak further, just simply reached into her bag, pulled out a book and began to read. That was what Scorpius liked about her company; she knew just when to say something and when to let silence soothe them. Heart feeling considerably lighter, he went back to his exams notes. They sat quietly for nearly twenty minutes, with no sound except the occasional rustling of paper or the scratching of quill on parchment, the light from the candles above growing dimmer and dimmer as the night wore on. Scorpius began reviewing his Ancient Runes textbook chapter by chapter, but _Spellman's Syllabary _suddenly stopped making sense to him when two warm fingers gingerly touched the back of his hand under the table. His head shot up, but she did not flinch. She did not even look up from her book, just kept her eyes lowered and continued reading while her fingers turned his hand over and lightly stroked his palm.

"Rose."

She raised her eyes now, and looked at him. Simply looked at him, with those piercing blue eyes the colour of forget-me-nots, astoundingly bright even in the dimming light of the candles above. Her searched her face, confusion and thrill and warmth and dread whirling in his head, but she simply smiled a small smile and went back to her book. No need for words, he thought, watching the eyes that did not move over the page even though she pretended to be reading, the hair that appeared almost golden as it caught the candlelight perfectly, this girl whom he had somehow come to love, he did not know when or how, whose touch was all the comfort in the world. He laced his fingers through hers, and pretended to study too.

**Author's Note**

Wizarding World acknowledges:

Quotes from J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

Title from John Green, _The Fault in our Stars_: "I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once."


End file.
